Counting from Nine to Ten
by SomeoneNew86
Summary: A snapshot of what may have ran through the Tenth Doctor's mind as he copes with Rose's reaction of losing Nine and the thoughts of a new Regeneration.


_It was one snippet of memory that replayed itself over and over in the tenth Doctor's head; Rose keeping her distance while gazing at him with mournful eyes, _

"_Can you bring him back_?"

He caught the slight tremor of hope in her voice, he had proved to her he was indeed very much still the Doctor but it wasn't enough…she simply wanted him back as he was, but far from being simple it was impossible. He had hoped the warning he gave her ahead of regenerating would have prepared her more but the obviously upset look she wore proved otherwise. He laughed bitterly to himself as he raked a hand through his brown hair, he should have known. Rose and him…or himself as he was, _they _were the ones who had shared a bond. The _him _he is now is a stranger to Rose, to be perfectly honest, he is a stranger to himself at the present moment. He felt everything that was different physically; the slighter build, the gait with which he walked, and even the slight ocular differences were noticeable. Internally he felt some of the weight of the Ninth Doctor's burden relieved. The Ninth had been so consumed with the torment of losing Gallifrey. Perhaps the Ninth had taken the burden of it so heavily in order that future regenerations would have a lighter load; trying to prevent some of the agony from moving forward he held it in himself until it burned through him into embers. The other Doctor's would always remember and the memories would afflict them but the Ninth alone had lived through the immediate and hellish emotional aftermath of a lost planet and people. He strode back and forth sorting out his new self, it would take time but reliving Rose's reaction was what kept him awake at this late hour. He had regenerated many times before but witnessing Rose lose Nine was distressing, he wished he could have prepared her more. Mentally regenerating was strenuous; for a Time Lord it was possible. For a human, it would break a person's sanity. Leaving behind who you were one moment and becoming a completely different person while remaining the same soul you were was already hard enough for the mental and emotional faculties of a Time Lord. The Tenth Doctor possessed all the memories of the Ninth; the significant and the mundane. In his mind he saw a lot of Rose, apparently like her namesake flower she had taken root and grown through the Doctor's mind, her own timeline gently entwining and dancing around his. The Tenth sighed putting his hands into his pockets as he slowly shuffled around the center console of the Tardis, "Rose," he said quietly to himself. The feelings and perceptions of the Ninth Doctor towards Rose were still accessible to the Tenth; just in a less clear way. It was comparable to a person examining a photograph and remembering things forgotten, then those very things becoming as clear as day when seeing the snapshot. The memories were his photos and he sorted and skimmed through them, trying to find his own way of approaching Rose. Of course nothing was actually _new _to him, it was just that as a regeneration he was seeing the same things in a different light. He grinned widely as he recalled first dancing with Rose; he was so cautious with her! He had been so stoic; granted he was emotionally in turmoil over Gallifrey but even in the calmer moments he was so obstinately platonic with her. A cloud then passed over the Tenth's face; the Ninth was so very smart. The Ninth could see how much Rose was starting to mean to him and kept his wits about him. He always held her hand to keep her close, but was careful to not display too much of his hearts. If this sweet, adventurous 19 year old girl knew how much she meant to the 900 year old time lord it could have become an emotional disaster for her to endure losing him in the end. All the Doctors were accustomed to the everyday ache of loss; it's throbbing pain a constant part of life, much like the rhythmic beating of the Doctor's two hearts. The Ninth meant to preserve her from caring too much about him; unfortunately he, as all of the Doctors, should have understood that companions never walked away unscathed. Time always had a way of pulling each one away from her precious Doctor and leaving them with nothing but their memories of their wonderful Doctors. The Tenth's hearts skipped a beat as he remembered Rose as the Bad Wolfe, the soft golden tendrils of time's energy surrounded her bathing her in ethereal beauty. The risk she had taken for him! The Ninth doctor would never have anticipated this, a common similarity of the Doctors-underestimating what a companion would do for her dear Doctor if his own life was at stake. He recalled perfectly the horror he felt as he stood shocked knowing he could do little to save her from her brave and reckless actions. The Tenth felt a wave of emotion come over him as he saw the Ninth kiss Rose and save her from the overwhelming power of the Time Vortex. Bittersweet, the Ninth allowed himself to gently kiss her, a token to take with him before leaving Rose. In such a moment he could not have disguised his heart had he tried. The protectiveness he had felt as Nine gently picked her up filled him. Oh, how vulnerable she looked as he held her in his arms! "You unlucky bastard," said the Tenth to himself…or rather his past self, kissing the lips of the mortal woman who had defied all of time in one brazen action to save your life and having to say goodbye within minutes. The Tenth continued to contemplate and delve through memories; he thought of much more than Rose but so much of it ended up coming back to her. He quietly entered Rose's room in the Tardis and walked slowly to where she slept and knelt beside her. A frown passed over her face, was she dreaming of the Ninth? How cruel it must seem for fate to take her Doctor away from her and leave a stranger in his place. He felt a catch in his throat as a stray tear rolled slowly down her face, for the first time in a very long time he forgot his own pain, it had been eclipsed by this sleeping human child's. He gently brushed a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. She was a beautiful one, Rose Tyler. He could tell his resolve would not be as strong as the Ninth's. Inevitably he would lose her at some point; another part of the Time Lord's "curse." Was she worth it? He smiled sadly, his soft brown eyes full of tenderness and the hurt of past loss as he continued to gaze at her face; he had a feeling she would be every bit of it.


End file.
